death before dishonor

Leaving the Corps was incomprehensible to Samuel. He knew that it had not exactly been a voluntary decision on Nico’s side, but had he been in his shoes, Sam wouldn’t have known what to make of his life. It has been all he’s worked towards his entire life and pursuing anything else would have felt shallow to him, even as most people had urged him to do so prior to his commission. Part of that preparation had been spent on a campus just like this, and it gave him an eerie ring of Deja Vu walking ‘round people who were the same age now as he was then, yet a good ten years younger than Sam. He had thought that the alienation he felt with these people would cease with his graduation from Indiana State, but there he was.

     Sauntering through crowds of an afternoon class just dismissed, his eyes scanned for a familiar face among them, the somebody to have him feel less out of place. A silent but relieved sigh escaped and the man moved towards his target, too quick to exit his current situation to reexamine how peculiar it was that he’d feel more comfortable in a warzone than in one of about the most sheltered places in the States. Stranger things must happen each day and it was not like he would have come here if not for Nico. A friendly visit. “Enjoying campus life with the kids, French?”

Sam has been in a few relationships, some longer than others thanks to his physical absence due to his deployments, but he doubts that any of them have been based on true love rather than initial attraction, be it physical or otherwise. To be true, he doesn’t want to let himself fall in love with someone; it entails weakness, worry and a responsibility that he does not want to carry around through life.

Adrienne needed the customers more than anything which was why she was sat at a cafe waiting for a client that was late. Had she still been working beneath her father, she would have walked out and told him to reschedule as her time was money. Unfortunately for her, clients weren’t always a guarantee anymore which meant that she was now on her second coffee and contemplating whether she should message him. Just as she pulled up his number in her context, the brunette sighed when he made an appearance. 

Sitting upright, she couldn’t help but shrug her shoulders. “All that matters is that you’re here.” She chimed with a forced smile, only pausing when he began to ask what he should do. “I’ve studied your case but I’d rather hear the story top to bottom from your mouth. Sometimes things get overlooked and I’d rather no surprises when we’re in court.” Adrienne told him as she pulled out a note book and waved a hand towards him so that he could begin. While she would have normally asked if he wanted a coffee or something to eat — that ship had already sailed with his late arrival. “We’ve been on the clock for the last half hour.” She warned him. It was her time but his money ultimately and if he wanted to pay more, than she had all the time in the day.

Definitely sounds like something only a lawyer would say his mind grumbled into the silence that had befallen the two of them; Sam stopped his mouth from repeating his thoughts that would most certainly cross her to some degree, none of which he could allow if he didn’t want to one, pay her fee for absolutely nothing and then go look for another one of her kind. “Best hope that that half-hour was spent researching then.”, Sam commented slightly currish nonetheless as he leaned back into the uncomfortable wooden chair, and defiantly not returning Adrienne’s smile. He was said to be cold and unmoved, but even a guy like him could decipher fakeness in forced movements like this and saw himself above the politeness to ignore it.

   “Not sure what I’m supposed to tell you, that isn’t apparent. They wrote shit about me that isn’t true from supposed direct sources that god should damn well protect from me ever finding, and are unwilling to retract.” His answer was quick but his voice betrayed the stern facade Sam worked continuously to keep up; Samuel was seething at the thought. “This kind of shit may bode well in the civilian world where people make a living in stepping over bodies but where I work? That ain’t a metaphor and I’d just rather it not be the bodies of Americans who doubted my judgment and get themselves killed trying to self-debate fucking morality while being shot at.” His mood had crept onto the man’s face, furrowed brows and all. 

She shrugged her shoulders at Sam’s statement to not apologize. It was a bad habit of hers, always apologizing for things she really didn’t need to. Her therapist even told her it was probably best to use a different word, instead of feeling pulled to constantly say, ‘sorry’. She couldn’t help it though, almost everything felt like her fault, or at least her father was always quick to let her know that. “I’ll keep that in mind, but hopefully there won’t be a next time. I really shouldn’t be walking so late like this, alone.”

Sam’s gaze went somewhere into the darkness, the general direction of where he supposed the path went along without really seeing it. “If your run’s over then, I can walk with you to wherever you need to be.” He realized that he did not know where Bryant lived; she hadn’t exactly been on the top of his list of people to keep an eye on previously. Sam only knew that she was not from around where he lived, for that he saw her too little around the Lockwood quarters. There was a pause for a few moments in which Sam turned around and his back to her to look to where he’d come from, too, less in an effort to keep watch than estimate where they were and how much of his time would blue with this.  “I am obviously not gonna tell the townfolk about this.”, he added in the unusual manner of circumspection that didn’t pair well with the asperity of his voice. “Can’t have them think I could actually be talked at.”

Days tend to melt together for Seth. Memories conglomerating so that he couldn’t remember if he had visited his parents the day before or a week prior. Hell, he could barely remember that same morning. His psychologist had said it was part of the process, that it would get better if he tried… As if he wasn’t already trying.  The thought had a grimace crossing his features. “Fucker,” He let out, the lady passing by giving him a dirty look and covering her child’s ears as she hurried past. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t—” But it was no use, the woman had ignored him and kept walking. “Well, fuck you too, I guess.” Again, an unfortunate soul happened to catch his words and had him rolling his eyes at himself. “That wasn’t for you.” | @devinstonestarters​

“Should damn well hope not.” He did not make the effort to put on his officer voice, that part that flipped in him when suddenly everything was serious and supposed to be orderly because it was everything but that around them. A half-grin on his face made no way for it to wrestle through. Sam had adapted to the foul-mouthed culture of the corps long ago but was well aware that how his men talked to him was different. They would never quite dare to address him like the fellow enlisted, maybe for the better, but one or the other were beyond the formalities of their ranks by now. “Not on the base anymore, people give a shit how you talk to and about your fellow civilians here.” Not that Sam seemed to hold himself to the bounds of no-profanity-civility either these days, or any days.

There were about a thousand things that Sam would have rather done than let it get this far. Personally, he cared very little about what people said of him, much less said. It was not on his behalf that he did this, but rather out of principle. Inferring that he had done some lower than low and war criminal acts that went not only against everything he stood for and would, if true, had had him on the quickest way to a dishonorable discharge? Someone had to physically type that bullshit news story about him and two fellow officers and then have the guts to refuse to retract it to let Sam take action.

    Lawyers were a whole ‘nother race of human beings. There was so much smooth talk and jumping hoops included in fine print on that job description that Sam would have never touched it with a ten-meter pole. He’d been happy to have avoided them-- for the most part-- his entire life and felt it a burden to consciously change it now. Adrienne Acosta had, truthfully, only gotten the job because his aversion had Sam scan for the first name to have the whole defamation lawsuit thing done and over with the quickest way possible with as little interaction with any party as possible. Some meetings, he could not weasel his way out of, though.    “Sorry, I’m late.” He stated it as a fact more than anything else, pressed lips showing that there was no great desire to elaborate as to why to Adrienne, as he slipped into the seat opposite of her.  “So, do I have to give you some bull statement that I am gravely hurt and debilitated in my life, or is that not how it works?”

The worst feeling in the world was when you opened your fridge and found it empty. Pretty sure a week old pizza box with one slice left was not suitable. Even Gibson wasn’t that desperate. So, he found himself wandering the aisles of various food items. The old cliche to never shop while hungry well he obviously hadn’t listened for that one. If one checked his cart, it was piled with mostly junk food and there was some bread and eggs in there too. Definite means for a well balanced diet. “Not a chance.” Gibson was what you could call rough around the edges. The crime if he were honest kind of brought comfort. It was hard to stray to the luxurious parts of town when most of his life, he had spent most of his early childhood envying that sort of living. But jealousy – was a shitty thing. As he grew up he understood that you could be rich and be more of a prick then the poor or middle class. Probably more because money constituted as having a valid reason of being an asshole to everyone else. “I heard the tenants weren’t even home. I don’t think that robber or robbers had any balls. Just looking for an easy score I’m guessing.” The man mused, looking over at the familiar man. “I hope you’re not worried.”

Though appeased with Gibson’s answer, its wording caused him to shift slightly. Sam did not revel at the thought of pointing his Sig P226 at another human being so soon, but it wouldn’t deter him from pulling the trigger if he felt necessary. He guessed as much about his feelings was clear to whoever had left his place untouched for the last two years. “Can’t really say I am for myself.” Everyone else? That would have been a different situation. His first inclination would be to claim that he did not care much about the neighbors that had remained mostly nameless to him over the years, but there was the inkling of sympathy with these people whom he lived among. “It’s fucked up bullshit, ‘s all.” Stealing from the poorest while halfway across town sat a safe and sound gated damn community-- it sat wrong. “You’re from here, right? Was some Robin Hood busted before that they steep this low or did their brain cells just not cooperate with multiplying at birth?”

f: noemi

m: adrienne

f: riva

m: mackenzie

f: nico

m: behati

The thought of running in the morning made her want to hit that mental snooze button already. Tess wasn’t the best morning person, she had multiple alarms set on her phone to give her short, fifteen minute intervals before she actually had to get up. But, she sometimes always ended up running late. Night runs were more realistic for her, considering sleeping didn’t exactly come easy for her. Respectfully, she declined what seemed to her like an invitation from him, “I’ll stick to my night runs. But, thanks.” Tess eyed the captain, realizing he was right. “Oh, right. Of course. Sorry, again about the outburst – I’m just easily startled out here.”

“Don’t apologize for something you don’t have to be sorry for.” Though it had amused him, he’d still rather the pain of a fucking load of pepper spray -- whether Bryant actually had a can with her or not aside -- than hear about a disappearance, then a body in a month's time. If people thought he was the only one seeing messed up shit down where he was deployed, they haven’t had a good enough look into their own backyard yet. Deeply uncomfortable at his own thoughts, given what a peaceful patch of land he’d felt Devinstone had been to him, Sam’s brows furrowed. Surely he was winding into being too pessimistic again. “Just as a tip, don’t warn next time. Not very law enforcement-esque but better safe than sorry. Others can learn to avoid ways round.”